A Farewell to Donna
by Erin Kaye Hashet
Summary: It would be so much easier if everything was just black and white like it used to be. A Dean story, written for the fic-a-thon.


Title: A Farewell to Donna

Author: Erin Kaye Hashet

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Through Raincoats and Recipes

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue

Summary: It would be so much easier if everything was just black and white like it used to be. A Dean story.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all those who organized the fic-a-thon. This one's for the "Things I Thought I Knew" theme.

A Farewell to Donna

by Erin Kaye Hashet

_Ah, when to the heart of man_

_Was it ever less than a treason_

_To go with the drift of things,_

_To yield with a grace to reason,_

_And bow and accept the end_

_Of a love or of a season?_

-Robert Frost

Dean likes things simple. That's the way his life has been as long as he can remember it. Mother, father, brother, sister. School, homework, bath, bed. Winter, spring, summer, fall. Everything has always fallen into place. Nothing too complicated, and therefore nothing too unhappy. Just contentment, and simplicity, 24/7.

Once he saw _Pleasantville _back in Chicago, on a date with Beth, his first serious girlfriend. He remembers feeling disappointed when everything in Pleasantville became colored. He knew that he wasn't supposed to, but he actually liked it better when it was black and white. What was wrong with simplicity, with pleasantness all the time? Couldn't things just stay that way?

He asked himself the same thing when he and Beth broke up. That was their entire relationship: simplicity, pleasantness. He didn't love her, and he's never kidded himself that he did. Beth was simply a nice girl in his class who he thought would be a good date for the Christmas dance freshman year. So he asked her to the dance, then on a date, and soon they were boyfriend and girlfriend. They went out to dinner, or to a movie, about once a week. There was always plenty of great conversation, and usually a goodnight kiss. But even while they were going out, he could tell that Beth had a thing for his cousin Jack, who was in the same grade as them. He ignored it, for fear of losing what he had with Beth. It wasn't love, but it was nice.

It wasn't quite so nice, though, when Beth broke up with him, then started dating Jack barely a month later. He even heard them use the word "love" in conjunction with each other. As much as he tried to pretend he wasn't bothered by it, he was. And it wasn't even that Jack was his cousin that bothered him. He would have felt exactly the same had it been any other guy. All he'd lost in losing Beth was some good company, but what he and Beth had had worked. Why did she have to go and fall in love? Love was complicated, and therefore messy. He thought that he would have preferred to stay in a relationship with Beth than to fall in love and end that relationship. With Beth, at least he was safe. Love made you vulnerable, and then you were never safe.

He wonders sometimes about his parents. Do they really love each other, or are they just like he and Beth were? His father has always warned him to be careful about girls, not to rush into a relationship. This his father knows from experience. He was married once before he married Dean's mother, and had a daughter, Dean's half-sister Julie. He'd thought that he was in love, his father said, but realized too late that he wasn't. Years later, more cautiously, he'd married Dean's mother and had Dean and Clara. Their marriage was nice, pleasant, predictable. His mother made his father dinner every night before she went back to work, and continued to do it on weekends afterwards. Nothing ever changed. They had their routine, and it worked. Dean wasn't sure if love was included in that routine. Could things stay so simple when passion threatened to complicate them?

But then he moved to Stars Hollow and met Rory Gilmore, and everything he thought he knew about love and simplicity changed.

(asterisk)

When he met Rory, he knew that this must be what they called love at first sight. It was amazing. He knew nothing about this girl other than that she was beautiful, and that she had the most incredible concentration he'd ever seen. He watched her as a kid got hit in the nose with a football, and Rory never once looked up from the book she was reading. Maybe he admired that concentration, that intensity, that singularity of purpose so much because he didn't see it in himself. He wanted to go to college and get a good job, but he didn't know where or what. Ambition wasn't one of his strong points, because it meant passion, and passion complicated things. But whatever his reasons for being attracted to her, he knew then that he had to get to know this girl, whoever she was.

And he did get to know her, and loved her even more after he did. He might not have any strong passions, or ambitions, but Rory did. She could talk for hours about any one of her books, or about her affection for Stars Hollow and its residents, crazy as they were, or about how she wanted to go to Harvard and become a foreign correspondent, like Christiane Amanpour, reporting from a foxhole, righting the wrongs of the world. He never doubted for a moment that she could do it, either. He believed Rory could do anything if she put her mind to it. If anyone he knew was going to change the world, it would be Rory.

Then there was Rory's family. She lived alone with her mother, who was funny and beautiful and only thirty-two years old. Lorelai, Rory's mother, was the local innkeeper and had had Rory when she was sixteen. Dean couldn't believe that. He'd gotten used to thinking of teenage single mothers as inner-city drug addicts with abusive boyfriends, or waitresses working double shifts and stripping to support their children, not as intelligent, successful, attractive brunettes with sixteen-year-old souls. Dean knew that Rory didn't see her father much, and the amazing thing was that she seemed to be completely fine with that. Dean couldn't even imagine wanting anything unlike the family he had. Since he was young, it had been drilled into his head that his family was the way families were supposed to be: parents, children, dinner together every night (home-cooked, not take-out like Rory and Lorelai always had). And divorce was to be avoided at all costs. Dean's father had said to him once that while he didn't regret having Julie, he regretted everything else that had come with it: his estrangement from Julie's mom, the custody battles, the child support. Dean had made up his mind then never to be divorced. Lorelai wasn't divorced—she'd never been married to Rory's father—but she'd raised a child alone, and done an incredibly good job, which completely went against everything Dean had been raised to believe.

Then there was that night over at Rory's house, when he and Rory and Lorelai had watched _The Donna Reed Show_. Dean had never seen it before, but Lorelai and Rory were sitting there, mocking the show where _nothing_ happened. They added in their own dialogue so that speeches about impure thoughts were juxtaposed against the prim black-and-white images, kind of like a makeshift _Pleasantville_. That disturbed Dean, for some reason, and he jumped in, saying that he didn't see what was so wrong about what they were making fun of. Big mistake. Rory and Lorelai got all defensive, going on about oppressed housewives and a male-dominated world, and Dean was sorry that he'd ever brought it up. The next thing he knew, he and Rory were in a semi-fight about it and she was dressing up like a '50s housewife, making him dinner at her neighbor's house. Dean has to laugh now thinking about it, but the whole incident really did make him reconsider everything he thought he knew about traditional families.

Dean loved Rory so much. He didn't think he could go a single day without seeing her. He felt like he could do anything for her, like he would change the world to suit Rory's needs. He started building her a car, knowing he would make her the absolute best one he could, and showed it to her after he took her out for their three-month anniversary, and there in the car, he told Rory that he loved her.

Rory said nothing. After all that, she had to think about it.

Dean felt so much. He was shocked, angry, embarrassed, hurt. Against his better judgment, contrary to all his previous behavior, he had put himself out there and surrendered to the passion he felt. And after all this, all this money spent on the dinner, all this time spent building the car, all these hours spent dreaming about them together, she didn't even love him. If she had to think about it, that meant no. He'd never had to think about whether or not he loved Rory. He just _knew_. It was a fact, like water being wet or grass being green. You either felt love or you didn't. It was that simple.

But such simplicity didn't fit into Rory's bright, colorful world. She couldn't say "I love you," because her mom had loved her dad, and had gotten pregnant. Dean couldn't believe it. He should have known. Single teenage mother—of course her kid would have some kind of issues.

But then they were back together a few months later, and this time, Rory said she loved him. Right in front of everyone at her school. And everything went back to normal.

For a little while, anyway. Then that asshole Jess showed up in town, Luke the diner guy's nephew. He obviously liked Rory, and as time went by, Dean had to admit to himself, painfully, that the feeling was probably mutual. He could see the way Rory looked at Jess, the way she was fascinated by him, and bored by Dean. And that fascination stayed even after that stupid punk crashed the car, the car that Dean had spent _hours and hours _building over the course of a year, and gave Rory a broken wrist. The anger and frustration kept building up in Dean, for almost a year, until finally it exploded, there on the dance floor at the dance marathon, and he broke up with Rory. It hurt him, because even though he was angry with her, he did love Rory. But she could either be his girlfriend or Jess's. Not some kind of in-between that didn't benefit anyone. This was one thing that had to be black and white.

It was awful, seeing the two of them together. It was a million times worse than his breakup with Beth had been, and she'd left him for his _cousin_. But seeing someone you loved in love with someone else, especially when it was someone you hated, was the most painful thing in the world.

After awhile, Dean decided he needed to move on with his life. Rory and Jess were together, until he broke her heart, anyway, and he just needed to accept that. Maybe, he thought, he should get a new girlfriend. Someone with whom his relationship would be a little simpler, and maybe, just maybe, someone he could make Rory jealous with.

Lindsay Lister fit the bill. She was a pretty blonde girl in his math class who was kind, friendly, well-liked. She and Dean got along well. They talked sometimes, even studied for tests together. So one day, Dean asked her out. And it was nice. He and Lindsay were more alike than he and Rory had been. They were from similar backgrounds, had the same values, were both Cubs fans. At least Lindsay said she was a Cubs fan. Dean didn't see why she would be, seeing as she'd been born and raised in Connecticut, but he didn't argue.

Yes, things with Lindsay were nice. Very nice. So nice that Dean decided to make it last forever by proposing to Lindsay, who accepted. Lindsay's parents were thrilled. After all, how many teenage boys were there who wanted marriage instead of mindless hookups? Dean's parents weren't quite as excited, but they didn't try to talk him out of it. His father, who had also married young, said to him once, privately, "Are you _sure _this is what you want to do?" Dean assured his father that it was. Lindsay was probably as good as it would get with him. Any girl he loved, the way he loved Rory, would probably never love him back. But Lindsay would make him happy, at the very least.

He told Rory about it, when he and Lindsay got engaged. She was the first person he told after his family. He didn't know how he expected her to react, but for some reason he was pissed when Rory was shocked, and questioned whether it was the right decision. What right did she have to tell him what the right thing to do with his life was? She'd chosen to leave his life for that stupid punk who had unceremoniously left her. She'd gotten on with her life. What was wrong with him getting on with his? Plus, it would be nice if she was happy for him. Maybe then he could have a little closure on his relationship with Rory.

But judging from what may have happened during his bachelor party, he wouldn't be getting that anytime soon. Dean was too drunk to remember what he actually said during that bachelor party, but considering that the girl who was first and foremost in his thoughts that night was not his future wife but his ex-girlfriend, it was probably not what he was expected to say. He woke up the next day, very embarrassed, in Luke's apartment. And Luke was very close with Lorelai and Rory, so he knew that Luke would probably never tell him if he _had _said something incriminating. So Dean woke up, and there was a huge wedding in the town square for him to go to. Lindsay was an only child, and her parents had gone all out for this wedding, spent a ton of money on it. Dean couldn't back out then. How much of an asshole would he be then, leaving Lindsay at the altar? So he went through with the wedding, thinking of Rory the whole goddamn time.

(asterisk)

He probably could have lived with never seeing Rory again if things with Lindsay had just stayed nice, the way they were at the beginning of their relationship. But they didn't. He was commuting to Southern Connecticut State while Lindsay attended community college, and the two of them lived together in a little apartment in Stars Hollow. He kept working at Doose's and then got another job doing construction at the inn Lorelai was restoring, the Dragonfly. Lindsay didn't have a job. She was getting a degree at college, but had no idea what she was going to do once she got it. For the moment, she was the stay-at-home wife, that '50s throwback that her mother, Theresa, was, and Dean's mother had been when he was younger.

But Donna Reed she wasn't. Theresa came over quite frequently to help Lindsay cook, but she wasn't much help. Lindsay was just not meant to be a housewife. She had no talent for cooking and didn't like to clean. And yet she would not get a job.

It bugged Dean, too, how involved Lindsay's parents were in their marriage. They were over at the apartment all the time trying to help them, often giving them money. It made Dean feel so helpless, so incapable of being a husband and a person on his own without support from his in-laws. And meanwhile, the place was too small for them. Lindsay was constantly complaining about needing more space, and decided that she wanted a townhouse, a nice one with a backyard and a pool. Dean would have done anything to make her happy, but not for the same reasons he would have if she were Rory. He would have done anything for Rory because he loved her and it thrilled him to make her happy. He would have done anything for Lindsay because it made his life easier, and he was determined to make his marriage work. So he dropped out of college to do more work on the Dragonfly, hoping to make enough money to get Lindsay her townhouse.

He started seeing Rory a lot more once he began working at the Dragonfly, and it made him want her even more. It made him long for those days they'd spend early in their relationship, talking about books, about school, about Stars Hollow, about the future. He wished so badly that he could have that back: a relationship with a beautiful, intelligent girl that had _substance_, had conversation and mutual affection and wasn't always about what the girl wanted, like it was with Lindsay.

And there were days when he thought that maybe Rory wanted it back, too. She came to him crying once after she'd had a bad day and couldn't find her mother, and she drunk-dialed him over spring break, which led to a nice conversation once she got home. But then Lindsay started to get suspicious of him spending so much time with Rory, and told him not to see her anymore. That was when he knew for sure that things with Lindsay would not work out. He could live without her, but he could not stop seeing Rory. And judging by Rory's reaction when he told her about what happened, she didn't want to stop seeing him, either.

She called him when she needed a ride home from a bar near Yale, and Dean hesitated only a moment before saying to himself, silently, _Screw what Lindsay thinks_. She'd just have to deal with it if he was going to see Rory. So he went, and he and Rory had dinner and a nice time together. Later, she showed him Yale's campus, and they headed back to her dorm.

And then, just as Dean was about to explain to her that he and Lindsay weren't getting along, and that he didn't think there was any way to make things better, and that despite everything he'd believed until then, divorce was starting to sound more and more attractive, and that he'd enjoyed himself more on this one night with Rory than throughout his entire relationship with Lindsay, Jess showed up. That bastard. What was _he _doing there? Was Rory dating him again? Why would she do that, after he'd abandoned her? Dean was beyond hurt and disappointed; he was _disgusted_. If Rory was dating Jess again, knowing what he was like and how their last relationship had ended, Dean had lost all respect for her. He started avoiding Rory, ignoring her if he saw her on the street.

But then he talked to her on the day the Dragonfly opened, and she told him that no, she and Jess were not dating. He had just shown up unannounced. That made Dean feel better, and as he and Rory stood there, he wanted so badly to kiss her, and he could tell by the way she moved toward him that she felt the same way.

He came by her house later that evening, when she was back there looking for CD's for the inn.

And now here he is, in Rory Gilmore's house.

In Rory Gilmore's bed.

(asterisk)

Afterwards, Dean is shocked to find that he's not shocked. He's just cheated on his wife after less than a year of marriage and deflowered his virginal ex-girlfriend— and it doesn't feel wrong at all. It feels like it was meant to happen. Like it was the natural course of events for the evening. Realizing this horrifies him. Did he come over there _expecting _to commit adultery? _Expecting _to leave his wedding ring on the night table? _Expecting _to sleep with a sad, innocent girl to fulfill his own fantasies? Even if it was somewhere in his subconscious? If so, what kind of an asshole does that make him?

He doesn't have much time to think about it, though, because when he gets home, he's greeted with, "You forgot your cell phone."

Dean stops. Lindsay's voice could freeze the Nile.

"Why is Rory Gilmore calling you, Dean?" Now she sounds calm, dangerously calm, with a challenging edge to her voice. She must have seen the caller I.D.

Dean swallows. "I don't know. Probably something Dragonfly-related."

"Dean I _told_ you, I don't want you seeing her!" Lindsay's cheeks are flushed.

"Lindsay, I'm _sorry _if our paths cross occasionally, but I work for her _mother_, and that's bound to happen sometimes!" Dean does his best to sound insulted and indignant, the way he's sure any normal guy who most certainly is not cheating on his wife would.

Lindsay rolls her eyes and stomps off. Dean's heart slows, and he hopes this is the end of it. Lindsay will never know.

Then Dean looks down and realizes he's not wearing his wedding ring.

_Shit_.

Dean sighs, picks up his cell, and calls Rory.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end is thick with tears. Dean suddenly realizes that Rory is the third-to-last person he wants to be talking to right now, after Lorelai and Lindsay. It is very strange to talk to your ex-girlfriend whom you have both deflowered and cheated on your wife with, and whose mother knows everything. Dean has no idea what he would say to her if he didn't have to say what he says right now.

"Um...Rory. I...I left my wedding ring on your night table."

"Yes?" Rory's voice is questioning, as if she's wondering what his point is.

"I'll...I'll be needing that back." Dean winces as he realizes how insensitive that must sound. "Um...can I come by tomorrow?"

"Sure," she says, softly, sadly.

"Great. Um...bye," he says, not a little awkwardly.

"Bye."

Dean exhales as he hangs up. Damn it. How did he get himself into this mess? Now, no matter what happens, someone is going to end up getting hurt.

(asterisk)

He goes over to Rory's house the next day when he knows that Lorelai is at work. Rory looks like she's been crying all night.

"Here," she says quietly, placing the ring in his palm. They stand there in silence for a moment.

"Rory, I'm sorry," Dean says finally.

"No, _I'm _sorry," Rory replies, her eyes welling up. "We did a terrible thing, Dean. I mean, you may be getting divorced, but you're still married, and...oh, my God, I'm a horrible person!"

"Rory, no you're not," Dean protests, guilt choking his stomach. "We just...acted too soon, I guess."

"Too soon," Rory echoes, not sounding reassured.

"Oh, Rory..." Dean steps forward and hugs her. They stand there holding each other for a long time, and then there is nothing more to say.

(asterisk)

When he gets home that night, the first thing Lindsay says to him is, "So what were you doing at Rory Gilmore's house today?" Her voice is cool, not quite angry.

Dean swallows. "Uh, I couldn't get in touch with her mom, so I gave Rory a message to give to Lorelai." How does Lindsay know that he was at Rory's today? Did she see him?

Lindsay's face hardens, and he knows he's said the wrong thing. She briskly walks over to him and punches him hard in the shoulder. "You _bastard_!" she shrieks. "You BASTARD!" She hits him again and again, and Dean, knowing that he deserves it, just stands there and takes the blows. Finally, Lindsay runs out of anger and falls against him, sobbing hysterically. Dean, sick to his stomach, can think of nothing else to do but to close his arms around her as her tears stain his shirt. Lindsay doesn't move away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, knowing full well that his words won't do any good.

(asterisk)

Later, he finds out what happened. Lindsay was suspicious, so she followed him to Rory's house and hid. She saw Rory give him back the wedding ring, and the suspicion turned to fury. She angrily bitched out Rory in Luke's, in front of half the town, and Rory had given her a different reason for Dean being at her house.

Rory calls him a few days later, in tears. "I can't deal with this, Dean," she sobs. "Everybody looks at me and they _know_, and I just can't take it!"

"It's all right," Dean soothes, thinking to himself, _Liar_.

"I'll see you when I get back," she sniffles.

(asterisk)

It's the longest summer of Dean's life. He and Lindsay decide to get divorced. Lindsay can barely look at him. Other than finding him a lawyer, his parents don't mention anything about Lindsay or Rory to him at all and seem very embarrassed. Clara keeps giving him suspicious looks. And no one in town will talk to him. He thought things were bad the first time he broke up with Rory, when Luke wrestled with him rather than let him into the diner, but this is a million times worse. Lindsay's parents must have turned the whole town against him, or maybe the town has just put a collective scarlet letter on him. Adultery has no place in a wholesome town like this one.

Despite his hatred for change, Dean's most fervent wish becomes getting out of Stars Hollow. He can't stand to be there a moment longer. He starts to look into transferring to a school in the Chicago area. Maybe he could live with relatives. He doesn't care. Anything would be better than being the asshole who cheated on his wife and stole the virginity of the town princess.

Getting back together with Rory couldn't have sounded more unappealing in the immediate aftermath of his and Lindsay's decision to divorce, but he starts to miss her as the divorce becomes more and more of an impending reality. Time is going by. He's adjusting to life as a single man. With a little more time, maybe he and Rory can be a couple again. They made a terrible mistake, sleeping together so early, but Dean knows that the emotions behind that moment weren't wrong. He and Rory can still be a couple. With a little time, they can make it work.

(asterisk)

Rory comes home in late August, and they meet on a bench in the park. The days are getting noticeably shorter as summer draws to a close. It is seven o'clock, and daylight is already fading.

"I'm glad you had fun in Europe," Dean says.

"Thanks," Rory replies, crossing her wrists. She looks away, then back at him. "So you and Lindsay are getting divorced."

"Yes," he says, trying not to sound depressed about it. "But I'm going back to school. Next month I'm going out to Chicago to start college again there."

"Chicago," she murmurs. She seems deep in thought. Finally, she blurts out, "Dean, we can't get back together."

Dean blinks. "What?"

"I don't want to be the other woman," she says. "I can't be the woman who broke up your marriage. I can't live with that."

"Is that all you're worried about?" Dean asks incredulously. "What other people will think?"

"Not what other people will think," she says, sounding frustrated. "What _I'll _think!" She stands up. "Dean, sleeping with you was a mistake. And not just because of the timing. I didn't think it through at _all_."

"What is there to think through?" His voice rises as he starts to become pissed. "You either feel it or you don't, Rory. I know I felt it that night. Did you?"

"No!" she cries, without hesitation.

Dean sits there, completely still. Rory stands up and starts pacing. "I didn't mean it like that," she says. "I just meant...I tried to rationalize it at the time, but in the end it just came down the fact that I felt _safe _with you! But I can't anymore."

_Safe_. The word is like a kick in the stomach. Rory felt _safe_ with him, like he did with Beth. Like he did with Lindsay.

"This just can't work anymore, Dean." Her eyes are full of tears. "We need to get on with our lives."

Dean sits there silently. Finally, he says, quietly, "Goodbye, Rory."

"Goodbye," she says, hugging him. She gets up and walks away.

Dean sits there, looking around at the rapidly fading sun. The leaves on the trees have already started to change colors. They're pretty for now, but soon they'll be falling all over the place, leaving the trees naked and abandoned, leaving a mess. Just like love.

(asterisk)

Back at his parents' house, Dean sits alone downstairs with the TV on and the lights out. Idly, he flips through the cable channels. Eventually, he lands on something familiar: the old _Donna Reed Show_. The black-and-white, perfect world where nothing ever happened.

It's the same episode he watched with Rory and Lorelai years ago. "_You're not late for dinner_," Donna Reed is telling her husband. "_You're just extremely early for breakfast_."

Dean reaches for the clicker and shuts off the TV. He looks around the room. This is his life.

And it sure as hell ain't black and white.

The End

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